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<title>i’m doing this tonight, i know this can’t be right (what else can we do, tormented and torn apart) by leifstroganoff</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29349306">i’m doing this tonight, i know this can’t be right (what else can we do, tormented and torn apart)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/leifstroganoff/pseuds/leifstroganoff'>leifstroganoff</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>1x11 Scene Ending, Drinking &amp; Talking, Drunk Blow Jobs, Hooking up, M/M, and uuuhhh here we are, really i just thought 'what if max and leif hooked up after the karaoke bar'</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 02:33:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,905</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29349306</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/leifstroganoff/pseuds/leifstroganoff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Max has finished his drink and ordered another one when Leif stumbles back over to the bar and slides onto his seat solemnly, immediately burying his face into a worrying large <em>chug</em> of the drink that was waiting on the counter.</p>
<p>“Hey there, buddy, <em>maybe</em>,” He draws out the word, pushing his own glass of water towards the taller man. “You should consider drinking some water instead.” </p>
<p>“I’m <em>fine…” </em></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Leif Donnelly/Max Richman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>i’m doing this tonight, i know this can’t be right (what else can we do, tormented and torn apart)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>alright so i started writing this after 1x11 aired bc i thought "what if leif and max hooked up after the karaoke bar" and then i ran with it cause uuhhh yknow what better way to deal with heartbreak than sleeping with your not-quite-friend who's in kind of the same boat </p>
<p>and then it sat as a WIP half-finished for a long time (like. more than half a year) and then last night's episode aired and i was like "oh yeah i really liked max &amp; leif's dynamic" and now here we are i hope you enjoy it, it's shamelessly horny</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Max has finished his drink and ordered another one when Leif stumbles back over to the bar and slides onto his seat solemnly, immediately burying his face into a worrying large <em>chug</em> of the drink that was waiting on the counter.</p>
<p>“Hey there, buddy, <em>maybe</em>,” He draws out the word, pushing his own glass of water towards the taller man. “You should consider drinking some water instead.”</p>
<p>“I’m <em>fine…” </em></p>
<p>Max takes the time that Leif stares into his empty glass to observe him; the red rims around his eyes and the way his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows and the fact that that is <em>not </em>the face of a well-hydrated man or of a man that’s <em>‘fine’ </em>in any sense of the word. His life would be a whole lot easier right now if that didn’t make his stomach swirl with worry, but he <em>gets it </em>a lot more than he wants to. While <em>karaoke </em>and crying in front of a bar full of strangers (as well as the lady in question who broke his heart) wouldn’t exactly be Max’s solution to the whole affair, he respects Leif’s process. He’s only a little bit secretly smug that it screwed Zoey’s night, too.</p>
<p>When he zones back in on Leif’s downtrodden face, he also notices that he’s picked up his phone and started typing something and <em>nope. </em>He and Leif may not have been the <em>tightest</em> before all of this, but they were still friends -- or acquaintances, at least, who respected each other, and he’s not about to sit here and let him embarrass himself <em>twice</em> in one night without ever leaving the same bar.</p>
<p>It takes a second for Leif to process that his phone’s been snatched from his hands, but when he does, a look of indignance is quick to follow, accompanied by his mouth flopping open, slightly akin to a very surprised fish.</p>
<p>“<em>Dude</em>, I have agency, what the fuck?” He makes a jab to snatch his phone back, but Max is quick to move his arm out of Leif’s reach, letting him flail in front of him for a second before he retreats.</p>
<p>“Mhm, not if you’re calling Joan, you don’t.” Max takes a large sip of the drink in front of him, setting Leif’s phone down on the other side of his glass.</p>
<p>“I wasn’t gonna call her…”</p>
<p>Max raises his eyebrows, a disbelieving look resting on his face as he tilts his head and scrutinizes the other man until he deflates and breaks the judging silence again with a squeak in his voice.</p>
<p>“I was gonna text her.”</p>
<p>“I think that might be <em>worse.</em>” Max lets a dry chuckle out with the words as Leif’s shoulders sag forward, pushing the empty glass forward and letting his torso melt onto the counter, resting on top of folded arms.</p>
<p>“I think something’s wrong with me. Like, fundamentally.” Leif mutters into his arms, melancholically muffled. “Or maybe I’m just <em>drunk.</em>”</p>
<p>“How did you even get this drunk this fast? I’m <em>barely</em> buzzed.”</p>
<p>“That’s because you’re drinking <em>beer, <strong>Maxwell.</strong></em>” The name rolls off his tongue with a delicate ease as he sits up, teasing tone making Max roll his eyes as a drunken hand pats his cheek lightly (though, the teasing tone is significantly better than the depressed despondency from moments earlier). “We need to get you a daiquiri.”</p>
<p>“<em>Do we?</em> Need to get me a daiquiri?” Max says, doubt clear in his voice, though it’s far closer to the teasing edge of his register than it was when Leif sat down.</p>
<p>“Do <em>you </em>think we need to get you a daiquiri?” Leif sounds deadly serious as his eyes bore into Max’s own, intense in how absolutely <em>gone </em>he is as his hand clasps his shoulder and Max kind of thinks he wants to get on his level as his mind drifts back to having to force himself to ignore Zoey on her way out.</p>
<p>“I think we need to get me a daiquiri.”</p><hr/>
<p><em>A </em>daiquiri turned into two daiquiris turned into more daiquiris for <em>Leif </em>turned into <em>lamenting their woes</em> turned into Leif dragging him into the bathroom and <em>very quickly </em>attaching his lips to his neck as he pushes him against the wall, ignoring the force his head bounces against the wall with, far too preoccupied with what Leif’s tongue is doing at the juncture of his neck and jaw as his hand pushes up under the hem of his shirt to scratch short fingernails across his ribs and the flutter that that sends from his stomach to his crotch is quite enough to bring him just short of a (well-deserved) freak out.</p>
<p>“Wait, <em>hey, </em>Leif,” He breathes out, meeting Leif’s lidded eyes as he pulls away and he thinks that Leif is <em>far </em>more put together than he has any right to be for both how <em>drunk </em>they are <em>and </em>how <strong>horny </strong>they are. “What are we doing?”</p>
<p>“Making out?” His voice is flat, as his eyes squint and he could stand to look a <em>little </em>less judgemental when his hand is still shoved up Max’s shirt. “I thought that was kind of… obvious.”</p>
<p>“No, I meant —” He cuts himself off, shaking the doubt out of his head fairly easily and choosing very purposely instead to focus on where Leif’s fingers are instinctively lightly grazing over the skin under his shirt (does he even <em>realize</em> he’s doing it?). “Whatever.”</p>
<p>He grabs Leif by the tie and yanks him back in, letting their teeth clash together with the kiss as Leif’s hand makes haste to move up and pinch at a quickly hardening nipple, drawing a choked <em>“mhm” </em>out of Max and a smug smirk against his own lips that’s far less infuriating than it is <em>annoying</em>. Leif may have more experience with this (which is <em>quite </em>a thought to think; it’s not Max’s first time making out with a guy, but he’s not exactly the <em>bar bathroom </em>kind of guy - it’s hard for him to discern by how <em>easy </em>this seems to be for Leif whether or not <em>Leif is)</em>, but that doesn’t give him the right to think he’s <em>better </em>than Max at it. Is he better than Max at it? Does <em>Leif </em>think he’s better than Max at it? Is this competition some weird one-sided thing in Max’s head as he lets his thoughts drift a little too far away for how hard he’s getting where Leif’s leg is slotted between his thighs? A mixture of the pressure against his crotch and the daiquiris catching up to him makes it <em>really </em>hard to consider those questions.</p>
<p>It gets even <em>harder </em>(pun half-intended by his hormone-addled brain) when Leif starts walking backwards without disconnecting their lips, stumbling their way into one of the stalls and closing the door, shoving Max up against the wall and deepening the kiss as soon as they’re in relative privacy.</p>
<p>Max doesn’t have time to let his mind wander any further before Leif’s lips have traveled to his jawline and then to his neck, sucking hard at a sensitive spot and drawing a groan from Max’s lips as his hand reaches to messily undo his belt buckle and unbutton his pants.</p>
<p>“Is,” Leif lays a sloppier kiss to his collarbone where his other hand has undone a couple buttons on his shirt, pushing it open for access to more bare skin. “Is this okay?”</p>
<p>It’s breathy and a little desperate as his hand lingers at the waistband of his boxers and, if he wasn’t already hard, Leif’s warm breath spilling across his chest would <em>certainly</em> do the trick.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Yeah.” </em>
</p>
<p>Max’s affirmation brings a small smile that he can’t really read to Leif’s face. He doesn’t have time to try to decipher it, anyways, before Leif’s dropping to his knees, pulling Max’s pants and boxers down just as fast as he’s dropped and letting his erection spring out.</p>
<p>Max is <em>delighted </em>to find that Leif wastes absolutely no time in taking his dick in his mouth and hollowing his cheeks around it, forcing a sharp inhale of breath into Max’s lungs as his hand quickly finds its way into Leif’s hair, tugging lightly and drawing a choked moan out of Leif’s throat as he pulls back and then drags his tongue over the tip, light and teasing and <em>fuck. </em>He’s taking Max’s length almost all the way down before Max has time to process the <em>teasing</em> and it makes his fingers tighten in previously impeccable blonde hair enough to hurt and he swears he sees Leif’s eyelids flutter a little bit at the pain, pulling back and wiping away the little bit of spit that dribbles out of his mouth as he sits back on his heels.</p>
<p>It only takes a second for him to get his bearings and go back in, more enthusiastic and sloppier and it takes a lot of Max’s willpower not to let out a louder moan slip out than he does (because they’re still in <em>public</em>, he forcefully reminds himself) as Leif moves his hand to grip the base of his cock, pumping up to where his mouth rests, tongue now working to tease the tip and Max is only a <em>little </em>embarrassed that he already feels so close to the edge as he lets his head fall back against the stall wall and lets his eyes fall closed.</p>
<p>Leif pulls away again, letting his hand do the work for a second as Max peeks back down at him where he looks up with lidded eyes, his lips still kiss-swollen and, to his credit, he doesn’t look <em>nearly </em>as smug as he expects him to; he looks more <em>lustful </em>and <em>wanting </em>than anything else. He maintains eye contact as he takes him in his mouth again, almost to the base before he chokes and readjusts and <em>fuck</em>, stuttery and awkward <em>‘Mohs’ scale’ Leif </em>has <em>absolutely no right </em>to be as good at this as he is.</p>
<p>Max is the first to break eye contact, letting his eyes flutter closed again as he feels himself get closer to the edge and then fall right over it with every movement of Leif’s mouth; Leif doesn’t let up, either, hand pumping the base of his cock through his orgasm as Max cums in his mouth and he shouldn’t be as surprised as he is that Leif swallows it all; if there’s one thing he can say about Leif, he’s definitely not a <em>quitter. </em></p>
<p>“That was… a nice <em>distraction.” </em>Leif comments as he stands up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.</p>
<p>“Uh…” Max is still struggling to regain <em>actual </em>brain function between the buzz of alcohol running through his veins and the post-orgasm bliss still clouding his head, combined with the fact that Max Richman is just <em>not </em>the kind of guy that gets a blowjob in a bar bathroom. “Y - <em>Yeah.</em> It was.”</p>
<p>“I’m just saying. You clearly can’t stop thinking about Zoey. I can’t stop thinking about Joan. This could be… <em>mutually beneficial. </em>Think about it.”</p>
<p>And then with a strong, yet awkward, pat of Max’s chest, he exits the stall and washes his hands, leaving Max just a little bit shell-shocked against the stall wall until he hears Leif leave the bathroom (and he’s still still <em>infuriatingly </em>put together for someone who just gave a pretty stellar blowjob in a bar bathroom).</p>
<p>Even worse? <em>He has a point. </em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>pls comment if you liked this im in rarepair hell and in desperate need of validation</p></blockquote></div></div>
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